


Miles

by andifiquitnow



Category: Sanctuary (TV) RPF
Genre: 2012 Leo Awards, F/M, hotwrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andifiquitnow/pseuds/andifiquitnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin tried to smile for the camera. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what the 2012 Leo Awards ceremony was actually like because the bastards didn’t broadcast it. This is therefore my fictional take on the evening based on the photos I saw, which made me want to cry for some reason. As an aside, I do write things other than RPF, I swear. It's just that my muse likes RPF so damn much, even though I'm not sure I approve. Also, I understand if you take issue with my use of the hotwrong tag, as nothing especially hotwrong happens here, but I think it still applies.

Robin tried to smile for the camera. Sort of. He was an actor so he could put on quite the show when he wanted to and only a few people could tell the difference, but his heart wasn’t in it just then. The whole Leo Awards evening held such an air of finality for him. They had suspected for a while that Sanctuary would be cancelled, but it had been made official just the week before and he’d been in a mood since then that was unusual for him, both listless and keyed-up, like his body didn’t know what to do with the news so it was exercising all the possible reactions simultaneously. This night with Amanda felt like the last time they would get to be the two of them as he knew it. He knew realistically that after this, they would be seeing much less of each other. No more days and nights on set, the endless repetition of physically painful or emotionally exhausting scenes, no more teamwork. He loved those moments of acting when it was just the two of them relying on each other. They wouldn’t have that anymore, not in the same way.

The cancellation of Sanctuary would have been bad enough, but on top of that, a few days before the Leos, an organizer had taken Amanda and Robin aside and told them which awards Sanctuary was and was not going to win. Officially, of course, the results were secret but the hosts of a ceremony were generally told so that they could prepare their shtick and themselves appropriately, for which Robin was grateful. He didn’t think he would have been able to hide the shock of losing so many awards had he found out on stage with the rest of audience. He could tell Amanda was grateful too because he’d seen her face and he knew she wouldn’t have wanted to make that expression in front of the whole BC film industry.

All of this served to make it rather difficult to get into the swing of things. Robin knew he looked rough but for once it wasn’t a hangover. He was aware that he and Amanda has been chosen to host the ceremony because everyone liked to see them goofing around; he hoped he had the energy for it. It just seemed so sad that this was their last event as the wonder twins of sci-fi and he was ruining it for himself by being pre-emptively sad that it was over. He wished they hadn’t already learned Sanctuary’s fate.

Amanda shifted beside him and he squeezed her side a little in reassurance. She looked so good. He could smell her hairspray.  _Twist the knife some more, sure, go ahead_ , he thought. They had had the time to talk about the end of Sanctuary in their last-minute prepping as hosts, but they hadn’t taken it. They’d avoided the subject like pros, aside from a few platitudes, and it hadn’t taken a lot of effort anyway because they were rushed to prepare. Right now he just wanted the pre-show photos to be over so the ceremony could be over so he could go home and sit on his couch in the dark and be self-indulgent and feel the gaping hole in his life. At the same time, he never wanted the evening to end. He sometimes made jokes in interviews about being in love with Amanda but damn if it wasn’t actually true. It was getting worse all the time. He didn’t even care that he saw her every day and then she went home to someone else. He just wanted to see her every day. That’s how bad it was.

The photo session finally ended and he followed Amanda around to the backstage area. They had to check in with the organizers and be seated for the banquet.

"Whew," Amanda said. "Those photo line-ups seem to go on forever sometimes. It makes my face hurt."

"Yeah," Robin responded. He figured a one-word answer wasn’t enough. "I know it’s part of the package and all but it makes me feel like a prize cow waiting to be auctioned."

"Oh, come on," Amanda teased. "You love all this! You’re such a poser." She nudged him with her elbow.

"Guess I’m not feeling like posing tonight."

They entered the backstage area and she stopped walking.

"I know," she said. "I can tell."

"Is it that obvious?"

"A little," she said. "But as long as we get out there and have a good time "The Bickersons" style, no one will remember."

Robin huffed a sigh. "Right. Okay. Yeah, let’s do this thing."

She grinned at him. "Atta boy."

Anything for her.

***

Truthfully, Amanda wasn’t feeling much better than Robin. Friendship and feelings aside, she owed him quite a debt, professionally speaking. They had trusted each other so much that she’d been able to go places with her acting where she’d never been before. She had emerged from the other side of Sanctuary a different person for so many reasons, but partially because of the freedom Robin had given her to be herself. She would always owe him that and be grateful for what they shared. And she was going to miss him like crazy, which was something she hadn’t processed yet.

So no, this night wasn’t going to happen the way she originally thought it would, but she was determined to enjoy it anyway. One of them had to be the leader in that regard so that the other could follow and from the moment Robin had shown up, she could tell it was going to be her evening to play cheerleader. She felt sick, though, and oddly homesick and her hairdo felt like it was going to fall out. Oh well. Maybe people would think she’d done it on purpose. There wasn’t much she could do about the rest.

***

As the evening wore on, Robin began to feel a little bit better. He was getting into the spirit of things and was able to forget for patches at a time that this was, as he’d been referring to it in his head, The Last Time. Amanda one hundred percent had her A-Game on and her enthusiasm was cheering him up, so much so that he was starting to wonder if this was affecting her at all. Not that he wanted her to feel like him but maybe he did a little, just so he’d know that she cared.

Robin looked over at her laughing beside him on the stage, and then he looked out into the crowd where everyone was obviously having a good time, and he felt a sudden rush of well-being. This was worth it. Despite the pain of the ending, he wouldn't have missed this for anything.

***

"Tell me it’s not over." Amanda said, putting her wineglass down on a nearby table.

"What?" Robin said. He wasn’t asking her what was over, he was asking her to repeat herself.

"Tell me it’s not over. Our Sanctuary family. What we shared. What we built."

Robin wasn’t sure if she was using the royal we or if she was referring specifically to the two of them.

It was after the awards and people were mingling. It wasn’t officially an after party, but the bartenders were still on and the crowd wasn’t showing signs of leaving. Amanda and Robin, alone for the first time since it started, were standing by one of the tables. They weren’t alone, precisely, the room was full of people, but no one was coming at them for the moment, which is when Amanda jumped him with the question.

"ManTap," he said, as the room buzzed around them. "It’s not over, I promise." He was promising himself as much as her. "Connections that we make, if they matter, they don’t go away. They stick with us, they become part of us. There are people we won’t see every day anymore and we don’t have our show to work on anymore but what we did remains, the people who we changed are still changed, and who we are because of it won’t go away. We have that to hold on to. Don’t count how many years it’s been or how many episodes we did or whatever. Count what it’s left you with. Which is a lot. It’s not over."

She gaped at him a little.

He smiled. "What? I listen when you talk. Namaste, bitches, am I right?"

Amanda laughed. "Yeah, something like that." She slid an arm around his waist and kissed him fully on the cheek as only she could do. "Thank you. We wouldn’t be here without you." She paused. "I wouldn’t be here without you."

"Yeah, sure," he said. "Whenever. I’ll do it all again. You just let me know. I’ll be there." He meant it and she could tell. He looked at her and she looked back. They looked at each other and Amanda wanted to cry at the loss, no matter how true she recognized his words to have been. They stared at each other and she shook her head. She looked like she was going to say something else, but then yet another person came by with congratulations, thank-yous, and you were hilarious, so they both smiled and were happy and posed for a photo. Robin pressed his shoulder into her and they hugged each other tightly around the waist as they leaned their heads together and waited for the flash.


End file.
